The Sheikh's Stolen Bride(13)

Ash nodded. “You could say that.”

“The marriage agreement is water tight. Neither side can break it. Is that old bastard asking for more?”

“No,” Ash shook his head.

“Because his daughter is an excellent candidate for Syed but we’re already paying above the odds.”

“Please don’t,” Ash said quickly. “I don’t think we should speak as though Charlotte is being bought.”

Adin’s laugh was deep. “Okay, if you wish. So? What is the problem?”

“I don’t think she will make Syed happy,” Ash said after a moment, guilt worming through him at the complete, bald-faced lie.

“I presume you’ve met her? She’s a beautiful girl. Intelligent. I like her.”

“I like her too,” Ash responded truthfully. “But she is not a match for Syed. They’re fundamentally different people.”

Adin was quiet, and Ashad wondered if the old man was listening to him. It would be a pleasant reprieve if he could be brought to agreement.

“Then they will have to learn to be compatible,” Adin said after a pause. “This marriage is to go ahead. I know Syed does not wish to marry her, but he must. He has thoughts of that American in his head, and only marriage can correct that.”

Ash shook his head. “You wouldn’t see him married to someone against his will.”

“You know Charlotte. Do you think he will be immune to her charms for long?”

“No.” Ash was numb. He could imagine that Charlotte would put anyone and anything from Syed’s mind with ease. “What if …” He felt an unusual sense of apprehension quiet his words.

“Yes?” Adin barked impatiently.

“I will marry her,” Ash said, and the second he said it, he knew that the words were an expression of what was in his heart. A smile moved over his face. “I will marry her.”

Adin’s laugh surprised him. “She has charmed you, eh?”

Ashad shook his head. “Syed doesn’t want to marry Charlotte. I would be happy to.”

“I’m sure,” Adin’s tone was droll. He coughed, and Ash could imagine the way his lips would have curved into a small smile. “She is Syed’s betrothed, Ashad. The contracts are done.”

“The details aren’t finalised,” Ash pointed out.

“The details do not matter. The betrothal is formalised. Neither I, nor Rama can put them aside.”

“Of course you can. You are the King …”

“Ashad?” Adin cleared his throat and when he spoke again his voice was weak. Tired. Guild flushed through Ashad. “You are a good boy. You know what is needed of you. Finish the contracts and come home.”

“But …”

“Enough. It is done. She is to marry Syed. Understood?”

His uncle’s insistence was strange. “Is this about the American woman?”

Silence crackled between them. Angry silence – at least, from Ashad’s part. And, he guessed, his uncle’s.

“Sarah Smith,” Adin muttered with obvious distaste.

“Yes.” Ash nodded, trying to recall the scandal that had taken place. Only Adin and Syed had been reticent to discuss it. Ash knew only that Syed had believed himself in love. That Adin had deeply disapproved.

“My son will marry whom I choose. For the sake of the kingdom and his own happiness.”

“But if he loves …”

“He does not love this woman. His body might have been won by her, but she is all wrong. No. He will marry Charlotte. And you, my dear nephew? You will find your own bride who is every bit as charming as Syed’s.”

Ash disconnected the call as quickly as he was able; he had never shouted at his uncle before but his current mood made him think a first time was looming.

He respected his uncle enormously, but the call had only served to harden his resolve.

Charlotte and Syed would be broken of this obligation – and he would do the breaking. To hell with the consequences.





* * *



It was a perfect morning in Falina. The sun was shining despite the earliness of the hour and the sky was a crisp, glowing blue. A light breeze lifted off the marina, filling the air with the hint of salt, and in the distance, the fishing trawlers had returned and the activity of the men unpacking them could be heard even at the entrance to Tiffany & Co.

“Your Highness.” The manager for the jewellery store bowed so low his nose almost touched the paved footpath.

Ashad nodded. “I appreciate your opening the store especially for me.

“Of course,” the man nodded. “Please.”

Ashad was ushered inside, past four security guards and several store clerks.

“You have the items.”

“As you ordered. Would you like to view them?”

Ash shook his head. The idea of doing so in front of half a dozen shop staff turned his stomach. These were private items; things he’d ordered with Charlotte alone in mind. “No.”

“Very good.”

The manager handed over a signature turquoise bag, tied at the top with a frothy white ribbon.

“It has been a pleasure arranging this for you.”

Ash nodded, curling his hands over the ribbon. “My embassy has organised payment and the confidentiality agreements?”

The manager nodded. “Such agreements are unnecessary, but we have all signed them.”

“Good.” Ash turned on his heel and strode out of the shop, his business concluded, his mind moving on to the next part of the puzzle.

Charlotte was just stepping out of her apartment building as he exited the shop. Her head turned in his direction and he laughed to see that she’d attempted to go incognito – a large, wide-brimmed hat, linen pants and a kaftan top completed the look. Unfortunately for Charlotte, nothing could take away from the unique sense of elegance and grace she possessed. He would have picked her a mile off.

Charlotte was self-conscious. She walked towards him slowly, studying first Ashad, then the bag he held, and finally, the marina. It was deserted, save for the early morning shop staff and the boat crews coming off the trawlers.

“Good morning,” his voice was a deep rumble that made her stomach twist.

“Hey.” She cleared her throat. “Something in there for your bride of convenience?” She said with a lifted brow, teasing him and hoping he’d dispel the existence of such a person at the same time.

He laughed. “More of a bride of inconvenience, actually,” he said cryptically.

Jealousy was a hard flash. “Right.”

“I have a question to ask you. And it’s important.”

Her heart began to hammer, hard, against her rib cage. Thumpedy thumpedy thump thump thump. She could feel it banging against her body. For the briefest moment, she let herself imagine that she was being proposed to. It was pure fantasy, but she let herself imagine that he was going to say something magical and special and ask her to marry him.

The direction of her thoughts was astounding. They’d just met! And she was betrothed! What the hell was she thinking? Marrying him would be madness. Madness!

More so than marrying Syed, a little voice in the back of her mind asked.

“Okay. What is it?”

His smile sent goose bumps along her arms. She felt the spark of attraction buzz between them. It was a palpable tension; if she reached out, surely she would feel the air vibrate with that need.

“Do you trust me?”

Her body tingled and her mouth was dry. Did she trust him? “Yes,” she whispered, and it was absolutely true. She trusted him completely and utterly. “I do.”

“Good.” He took a step and she moved with him instinctively. “Try to remember that.”

She wanted to ask him what the hell he meant but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she walked beside him, and found that each step they took made her feel more and more … alive.

Her fingertips itched. She wanted to reach down and put her hand in his, but instead, she dropped her hand and let it brush his. The look he shot her was pure fire. It burned through her.

What was she doing?

This had the potential to be a disaster!

How could she be falling for this guy? He was the cousin of her fiancé and it sounded like he had some woman, somewhere, who meant something to him. Would her parents consider cancelling her engagement?

She looked away from Ashad as the idea found feet inside her. Even if they did, would Ashad be interested in her? Was he just flirting for the sake of it? And did she want to be with someone who could make peace with being attracted to their cousin’s betrothed? In any event, there was no way her parents would let her cancel the wedding. Financially, far too much was riding on the union  . Billions were at stake.

The boats they past were enormous. Some of the most luxurious in the world, she knew, despite her lack of interest in swimming. He stopped beside one and turned to face her.

“Here we are.” He didn’t smile. His look was one of challenge.

Charlotte’s skin paled beneath her tan. “Where?”

“You trust me, remember?”

She nodded. “But not to go on that thing.”

“Trust me,” he prompted, and now he reached down, squeezing her hand for such a brief moment that she almost doubted it had happened. He leaned closer though, so that his words breathed against her cheek. “I promise it will be worth it.”